Colors of Us
by sugarfreecakes
Summary: When he was with Hermione, colors were more than just what he saw. He could hear them, feel them, taste them. For everything they went through, Draco Malfoy could describe it with a color. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: These are very, very short chapters. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!**

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own any part the Harry Potter universe.**_

* * *

Brown.

It is the color of her eyes when he meets them and they sparkle with a smile of their own. It is the color that becomes tangible when her curls slip through his fingers as she sleeps beside him. As he comes into the room, it is the first colored head he seeks out. When she gifts him a hand-knitted scarf, it is the color of his most prized possession. It has become his favorite color.

* * *

 _ **Winter, 1999.  
**_  
"Happy Christmas!"

Draco Malfoy smiled at the witch standing in front of him as he stepped out of the fireplace. He took her into his arms and breathed in her scent. "How I missed you," he said softly, pressing his mouth to hers.

Hermione Granger grinned as she pulled back and patted his chest. "It's only been 11 hours, you know," she replied.

He shrugged and looked around the living room. There were quite a few more gifts in the pile under her tree that hadn't been there the night before. When she noticed him looking at them, she said, "Harry and Ron sent over their gifts. Did I forget to mention we were having dinner here tonight?"

"Not at Grimmauld then?"

"Harry said he wouldn't have the place cleaned up enough by then, so I offered my flat."

"How kind of you," he joked, kissing her again.

Hermione rolled her eyes and told him to sit, moving away towards the corner with the tree in it. She picked up a small box wrapped in a shiny green paper and came back to the couch. As she sat down next to him, she handed the box over and told him to open it. "I thought we could go ahead and exchange our gifts now," she stated casually, but Draco could tell she was nervous about him liking the gift.

As he opened it, he did it carefully as to not rip the paper. This was their first Christmas together and although he wasn't usually the sentimental type, for some reason he wanted to keep the wrapping paper. Once he had it open enough, he pulled the box out and took off the lid. Inside was something brown. He picked it up and as it fell open, he realized it was a scarf. The material was soft and Draco could tell it was expensive wool. Hermione was chewing on her bottom lip when he looked up at her. "Do you like it?" she asked.

"Of course, I do," he replied.

"I made it myself. Without magic."

"Then I love it."

He kissed her again and she smiled brightly. He wore the scarf around the house for the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any part the Harry Potter universe.**_

* * *

Blue.

It is the color of the sky as she holds onto his waist, squealing with a mixture of fright and delight at being on his broom. Her fingers twist into the color as she clings to his shirt, the material fisted in her hands. When he looks at her legs, it is the color of those muggle jeans that highlight her every curve. When she meets his gaze, he knows it is the color of happiness that shines in his own eyes.

* * *

 _ **Spring, 2000.**_

"Oh, Draco, I don't know about it," Hermione said, looking from his hovering broom to his face.

He sighed and shook his head. "Aren't you a Gryffindor? Where's your courage?"

She glared at him, hands finding a home on her hips. "Don't taunt me, Draco. You know how I feel about flying."

"I'll be right there though. We can ride together."

"Five minutes," she said.

"At least twenty," he replied.

"Ten."

He reached out and touched her chin, a small smile on his face. "Alright, ten minutes. Now, I'd let you sit in front of me because I know you'd feel safer, but I'm afraid I won't be able to see where I'm flying, so you'll have to ride in the back."

She nodded and mounted the broom after him, swinging her legs over and mentally telling herself that she'll never listen to him again. She took a deep breath and wrapped her arms securely around his middle. It was a warm day for early March and he wasn't wearing a cloak over his shirt and pants. When he lifted the broom off the ground, she buried her face into the soft blue material covering his back, right between his shoulder blades.

The longer they flew, the more comfortable she became. He took her around the grounds of Malfoy Manor, pointing out the thicket of trees on the south lawn where he and Theodore Nott had played hide-and-seek as children. He flew over the gardens and let her gawk at the peacocks his mother insisted on keeping. When he felt like being funny and daring, he turned them quickly upside down and made her squeal in both fright and wonder. He kept his promise and didn't keep her on the broom for longer than the agreed upon ten minutes.

"Well, that was fun, right?" Draco asked after they returned his broom to the shed behind the manor.

"It wasn't terrible," she half-way agreed.

As he took her hand into his and she looked up at his smile, she thought that just maybe flying with Draco wasn't so bad.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any part the Harry Potter universe.**_

* * *

Red.

When she steps out of the floo, it is the color of her robes. He sees the color in her bloodshot eyes and in the blush of her cheeks. As she argues, it is the color that creeps up her neck. When he looks down at his hands, curled into fists, it is the color of his skin. When she leaves and he closes his eyes, it is the color behind his lids. When he sees her picture in the Daily Prophet a few weeks later, it is the color of hair of the man she kisses.

* * *

 _ **Fall, 2000.  
**_  
"I'm just here for my things, Draco," Hermione sighed, looking over her shoulder at him. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb with his arms crossed and a sour look on his face.

"I know why you're here. I just don't understand why you won't listen to me. Leave your things. We can work this out, Hermione," he responded.

"We've been trying to work this out. It's not working anymore. You know it, I know it. All we do is fight. You come home at these ungodly hours and won't tell me where you've been or who you're with. I can't help but think you're seeing someone else."

"But I'm—"

"Not. Yes, Draco, I know that's what you say. But if that's the case, why can't you tell me what you are doing?" She stopped packing her bag and turned around to face him. He stood straight and dropped his arms to his side. Her eyes looked like she'd been crying and he desperately wanted to pull her to his chest. He wanted to tell her that he'd gotten himself into a spot of trouble with his father's company and was trying to remedy the situation. He wanted to tell her that the business associates were an unsavory type and he didn't want her involved in case anything were to go sideways. It killed him that she thought he would be involved with anyone else. How could he, when the only woman he wanted anything to do with was standing in front of him?

"Hermione, please," he pleaded. "I think I've got it worked out. I think it's over with now. Please. Just give me another chance." Draco didn't think he'd ever begged a woman to stay with him before now. She was the only one worth it.

For a moment, he thought he had her. Her expression softened and she looked ready to give in, but then her face hardened again and she turned her back on him, stuffing a few more items in the bag and zipping it shut. "This has been going on for months. I'm not happy anymore, Draco. I'm sorry," she said, swinging the bag up onto her shoulder and shoving past him through the doorway.

He followed her to the living room, where she gathered some floo powder from the mantle and stepped into the fireplace. She swallowed hard and looked at him, her eyes meeting his. "I'm staying with Harry and Ginny at Grimmauld. Send me an owl when you'll be out of the flat. I'll come for the rest of my things then. I think it's best if you're not here," she told him.

All he could do was nod. A second later, she was gone and he was alone.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any part the Harry Potter universe.**_

* * *

Grey.

As rain pours down from the sky, it is the color of the clouds. When he pulls out his cloak for the Ministry Ball, it is the color of the expensive material. In fact, it is the color of everything he's worn the past few months. He imagines it is the color of the pit in his stomach. As he mourns the loss of her beside him, it is the color of his sorrow.

* * *

 _ **Spring, 2001.**_  
 _  
Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,_

 _The honor of your presence is requested at the 3_ _rd_ _annual Ministry Ball, held in celebration of the anniversary of the war's end in 1998. One guest is permitted._

 _Attire is formal dress, with dinner beginning at 6:00 p.m._

 _Please respond with the attached card._

 _Thank you,_

 _Greeta Wendell  
Ministry Affairs Coordinator_

Draco rolled his eyes as he read the invitation once more. After weeks of debating on bringing a guest and who he could possibly invite, the night had arrived and he had never made a decision. Of course, he'd only wanted to ask Hermione and that wasn't an option. She was done with him, he knew it. Attending the function alone would probably make some reporter happy for the paper, as he was certain they would publish some story about him still being heartbroken. It was the only thing the _Prophet_ seemed to care about him anymore.

He jumped slightly at the crash of thunder outside his window and he looked back over his shoulder outside. Rain, of course, would not stop the ball from happening, but it would dampen his mood quite a bit. He hated getting out in the rain and he hoped that they'd have a covered walkway from the apparition point. If not, he supposed it was a good thing he was not inept at quick-dry spells. He laid the invitation back down on his desk and moved over to his closet.

Rifling through his various cloaks, Draco thought he might blow off the affair instead. But then the thought of being able to see Hermione made him reconsider. Even if she didn't look at him, didn't speak to him, didn't come anywhere near him…being in the same room with her, even for a few hours, would lift some of the sadness he was feeling. With those few hours of being near her, he might be able to pretend things were fine. He could pretend she was just making her rounds through the crowd, leaving him on the side while she went to mingle with the other party goers.

He stopped on a grey cloak and pulled it from its hanger, not caring to be gentle about it. At least, he thought, if I don't manage to dry myself all the way, maybe the rain drops won't show quite as well on the grey. He took a last look in the closet, noting all the other grey cloaks he'd passed over. It wasn't like he'd had much of a selection of color anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any part the Harry Potter universe.**_

* * *

Green.

When she strides into the ballroom, it is the color of the gown that clings to her figure. It is the color that rages inside him at the sight of her with another man. When he excuses himself to the loo, it is the color of his face as he vomits in the stall. As he exits, it is the color of the bespectacled wizard's eyes who looks at him with pity- with knowing.

* * *

 _ **Spring, 2001.  
**_  
"Miss Hermione Granger, accompanied by Mr. Ronald Weasley."

Draco turned away from his conversation so that he could watch her come down the stairs and into the ballroom. She was wearing his color and he wondered briefly if she'd done it on purpose. She was holding onto Ron's arm, a smile plastered on both their faces and his chest swollen with pride. Draco knew how it felt to have Hermione on his arm; it had made him proud as well. She was brilliant- kind, smart, beautiful. Watching her enter the ballroom with Ron made him feel jealous and reminded him of the first time he saw them in the _Prophet_ together.

 _ **Golden Couple Reunited- for Happily Ever After This Time?**_ Not even two months before, the _Prophet_ had been speculating when **their** wedding would be and now they were ecstatic that she and Ron were back together? Even though he hadn't particularly enjoyed the obsession they'd had with his and Hermione's relationship, he wasn't pleased that they'd so readily and easily dismissed their breakup in favor of her and Ron's new relationship.

"You okay, mate?"

Draco turned back to Blaise Zabini and shrugged. "It's been months," he replied, evading an honest answer about his feelings. Blaise knew not to push any further, and instead tried to engage him in conversation about the Tornadoes, his favorite Quidditch team.

While Blaise chatted, Draco gave another look back at Hermione. For a minute, her eyes passed over him, and while he thought -or hoped- they might linger, they moved on easily. She and Ron joined Harry and Ginny at a table far away from the one that he and Blaise occupied. He wondered if Harry had arranged their seating that way. For himself, not for Hermione. He watched as Ron helped Hermione into her seat before taking the one next to her; he appeared to be much more gentlemanly than he had been during their initial relationship three years earlier.

During their first few months of dating, Hermione had often said little things here and there about why her and Ron's relationship wouldn't work. He supposed that now, given a second chance, Ron had changed his ways to ensure things would work this time. Draco swallowed, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. "Pardon me," he said to Blaise, standing and quickly making his way to the loo.

He told himself the reason he was sick was because he'd had four shots of firewhiskey on an empty stomach. He told himself that he was happy for her.

When he opened the loo door and saw Harry standing there with a concerned look in his green eyes, he knew he was a liar.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This is the last chapter. I know they were short, but I hope you enjoyed reading!**

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own any part the Harry Potter universe.**_

* * *

Brown.

As the girl twirls around the platform, it is the color of the little boy's hair chasing after her. When their mother looks around the crowd, it is the color of her eyes that tactfully avoid his own. It is the ruffled feathers that belong to the owl his son is cooing over, a gift from his Grandmother Narcissa. Gazing at the mother across the way, he realizes that it is still his favorite color sixteen years later.

* * *

 _ **Early Fall, 2017**_

"Alright, Scorp, you owl us as soon as the Sorting Ceremony is over," Astoria said, smoothing their son's bangs back from his forehead. Draco hated the way she slicked his hair back; it reminded him entirely too much of the way his father had liked his hair styled as a young boy.

A sudden squeal of delight caused him to turn his head in time to see a redheaded girl about Scorpius's age spinning around, a little boy who must have been her brother, following. The adults standing near them with some other children were not strangers. Hermione stood with her hand in Ron's, watching the two children that had caught his attention. His chest panged a little when he realized they must be hers. He swallowed and looked up at Harry and Ginny, who he hadn't spoken to in a very long time. Their three children were standing with them, talking animatedly. The younger boy looked nervous, so Draco guessed it must be his first year too.

The adults noticed Draco and all looked his familys way. Hermione's eyes did not meet his, but Ron's and Harry's did. He gave them a curt nod before turning back to his wife and son. Scorpius' face shone with excitement as he chattered happily about what he was going to do with the decorations he'd brought for the area around his bed. "I'm going to hang my Tornadoes poster up first," he said, grinning up at Draco.

He smiled down at his son and nodded. "That's a good plan, Scorp. Know what house you want to be in?" he asked. He'd made it a point not to make his son think Slytherin was the best choice. He'd complimented all the Houses as Scorpius grew nearer to Hogwarts age and he'd be happy wherever his son ended up.

"Slytherin, like you and mum. I want to see where you lived and hung out when you were at school!"

"But you won't be disappointed if you end up in another House?"

"No way! I think it would be cool to be in any of them. I'm just hoping for Slytherin."

Draco smiled again, looking down at Scorpius and then at Astoria. While he and Astoria might not have had the loving marriage Draco had envisioned for himself, he was happy. He loved their son very much and he would do anything for his family. The train honked to signal that it was time to board before they left for Hogwarts. Draco helped Scorpius get all his luggage on the train, reminded him not to be afraid of Hagrid or the boats, and gave him a final hug goodbye.

As he rejoined Astoria, he noticed Hermione look at him from the corner of his eye. And as they left the station, he fingered the end of the brown scarf around his neck.


End file.
